Exorcizing Demons II

I can’t seem to wipe the blood from my face quickly enough before it is replaced by more. My head aches, my ears ring, and my blurry vision distorts the contours of the Hall.

But I can’t help myself. I yell out into the nothingness: Come back! We are not done yet!

The double doors begin to rumble just as I get into my best Bruce-Lee-from-Enter-the-Dragon pose. I stare anxiously at the doors. The stage begins to shake.

Then with the speed and sound of a locomotive It comes barreling into the room. I am so captivated by Its crimson eyes and pale teeth that I hardly realize that It is twice as large as before. It now looks like a wraith.

My knuckles turn white as I stare into that menacing face. My voice cracks as I say: This is the last time you will enter here!

It makes a shrieking sound. A baleful laugh.

And how exactly do you intend on stopping me?

More softly this time, I say: Simple. I will choose not to let you in.

For a split-second Its red eyes twinge; the movement is over as quickly as it began. It lets out another shriek; the sound reverberates through my body. Then it charges.

There is an explosion in front of me. I close my eyes and think:

My mind is a Monastery, and I am its Monk.

- Keats

I open them. It is still there, but just as far away. Its shrill voice is even louder than before.

But you were lied to. Surely that makes you angry.

The words sting me like poison, their meaning contaminating my veins. But I apply the remedy.

I say: We all lie. It’s what we do. Human beings are imperfect, and imperfection is the essence of a lie. I have no right to be angry at anyone for the universality of this vice.

You may not be angry… but you are afraid.

I say:

I can’t be afraid of something I no longer value. That devaluation is my choice, isn’t it?

I was at home, but then I was made a stranger. I was alive, but then I died twice in one lifetime. No more. I choose not to play this game. I choose not to invite the predilections that it brings.

This life is better served by not doing so. Be entertaining and be entertained. Nothing more. Let my last thought on this matter dissipate from my mind, like the final nebulas of a burnt-out star.

So no, phantom, I am not afraid. Now leave this place, there is nothing more for you here!
--
My eyelids close just as It reaches me. There is another explosion, this time under my feet. I am lifted up and thrown across the stage.

With the last ounce of my energy I get up from the debris. I open my eyes, and see It in front of me.

Only It is an older, more tired version of myself. The same jet black hair. The same dark brown eyes. The same chiseled features. The same self-delusion.

It looks rather curiously at me.

So I suppose we won’t be seeing each other again.

It turns around and begins to walk away.

Realization sets in. I say: If I do this, I will be never truly happy, will I?

It stops dead in its tracks, and slowly tilts Its head. For a moment I see a red tinge from Its eyes.

As you said: That's the risk you take. That's the price you pay.

And with that, It walks out the room, the doors closing behind it. Once again alone, I recite the familiar words aloud:

Underneath the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you and you sold me.

- 1984